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Hey look! It's Link Me Up Wednesday, two days late and a video short!
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It turns out that Amazon has a new program whereby they will donate .05% of your eligible purchases to the charity of your choice. .05% seems like a small amount, but when you consider the amount of money that makes its way through Amazon's coffers in a year, this is not an inconsiderable commitment. I chose the Parker Task Force for Human Services, and you can choose your own charity at Amazon Smiles.
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I love being American, but sometimes the narcissism of our political system makes my teeth hurt. All this sword rattling and carrying on as it relates to the tension in Ukraine is the current case in point. Because really -it's not about us._______________

But I could be living in North Korea, which I'd dislike, because I would look terrible in this haircut. That place resembles nothing so much as some sort of satiric depiction of what a despot should be. "I'll buy that for a dollar!"_______________

Geologist, writer and all-around good egg Rachael Acks weighs in on why Hobby Lobby and its ilk need a big ole dose of the NUNYA. And probably a punch in the eye. That, too.
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So, my 90 day probation period with my new employer is over, and I became eligible for benefits on March 1st. This new gig doesn't offer Kaiser as an option, so after 18 years, I actually had to "pick a doctor," and "manage my insurance."

Picking a doctor was not really an issue, as the woman who does my botox is also a family practitioner, and specializes in mood disorders.

But this "managing my insurance" is giving me high blood pressure.

I've never worked for a company that was nosier about my lifestyle and existing health metrics. They have a contract with a health management firm who pesters me about every aspect of my life. "What's your BMI? What are your metabolic health values? How often do you exercise? Do you eat vegetables? How often?"*

They then use these metrics to assign you a "healthy living score," which they provide to my employer, while simultaneously swearing up and down that "We would never share your private health information with your employer, OF COURSE WE WOULDN'T."

Failure to comply with this rude invasion of my privacy and questionable workaround of the HIPAA laws results in a $250.00 monthly increase in my premium, in addition to the not-inconsiderable amounts I already pay for coverage and my Health Savings Account.

These shenanigans are supposedly used to help employees achieve better health, but anyone with a rudimentary knowledge of statistics and risk management knows where this is going. There's not a doubt in my military mind that my "healthy living score" will be used to set my premiums moving forward. A failure to control my weight, the emergence of a chronic condition, or poor metabolic health will result in higher premiums. And that whole "opting out" option? I suspect that will eventually disappear, and if you want health insurance of any kind, baring your medical record to some go-between who works for your employer and not you will be mandatory.

As a dirty, dirty liberal, I consider the whole "health care for profit" model to be deeply immoral, and I'm willing to pay additional taxes to nationalize our health care system. If everyone is guaranteed some minimum standard of care, there's no need to target those people who have Type 1 diabetes, or mental health issues, or a history of cancer in their family. You just provide the appropriate care for these conditions, and if people want supplemental insurance for a higher standard of care, they're welcome to purchase it.

But the idea of the health insurance industry - not my doctor, the industry - having unfettered access to my medical record chaps my ass. Because it's truly, fundamentally, NUNYA.

_________*The only they didn't ask was how often I had sex, but I'm hopeful they'll include details on that next year!

A note: Thank you to all the friends and family who reached out to me over the weekend to express your love and support. I'm feeling a bit better this week, as the intensity of the grief tends to wax and wane depending on what time of year it is, how tired I am, and apparently whether or not Mercury is in retrograde. Love to you all.
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The 2014 Paralympics ended Sunday, and I have to say - their devotion and discipline touch my heart even more than able-bodied athletes.
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That horrifying den of ignorance and bile "The Australian Vaccination Network" has lost its status as a charitable organization because they're big fat liars. What a shame.
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Today is your birthday. You would have been 23, had you lived, and I'm struggling.

I'm struggling because the world is an uglier place without you in it. It's dark, and mean, and riddled with my grief at your absence. I think about you every day, and my emotions are in such a turmoil I don't know which way is up. I still can't believe you're gone, and every night my subconscious rails against the reality of your death in my dreams. Every day I want to scream, and somehow change the outcome of your life.

I so desperately don't want this to be reality. I want to go back in time, and save you from yourself. I want to help you find your way back into the light, and I want you to recognize what an amazing, gifted human being you were, with so much to offer to the world. I want you to have lived a long, happy life, full of love and laughter, and to have known the love that comes with having kids of your own. I want you to be here, with us, and not forever lost to the world.

Our niece was here last week. At one point she looked at your picture and said, "That's Auntie Moe! We should go see Auntie Moe!" She's 3 - she doesn't understand. And I came undone, because I would give anything to be able to do that. I would give up my life, my heart - anything - for you to still be alive and to be able to go see you.

But I can't. I'll never see you again. You'll never be older than 22. You're never coming back. Your light and love are gone from my life forever.

And I can't bear it. I can't bear the idea that your world was so dark, so full of despair, so without hope and vitality that you chose to leave your life of your own volition. I can't bear the thought that you felt this way, and didn't tell anyone. That you couldn't or wouldn't ask those who loved you most for help, for comfort. That taking your own life was really the only choice you felt you had left. I couldn't save you, and I miss you desperately, and I hate this. I fucking hate it.

I know that someday this won't hurt as much as it does right now. I know that eventually I'll be able to think of you fondly, with love, and joy, and gratitude that I had the chance to share your life, however briefly.

But that day is not today. Today I feel grief, and despair, and a desire to crawl out of my own skin in the hopes that this won't hurt as much if I do.

Megan Rosalarian Gedris hits the mark with this cartoon surrounding feminism. Because remember, kids - feminism is not about conformity, but about agency.
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Matika Wilbur is on a quest to photograph members of every single Native American tribe as a way to combat stereotypes and take back indigenous culture. It's called Project 562, and her photos are beautiful and haunting.
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Hiatus 'R' Us

Not really. Time just got away from me, and as a result, things have been a bit dormant around here of late. First the Mechanicky Gal came for a long weekend, and we had a marvelous time eating crap, going to the spa, going shopping, and eating tasty food that wasn't crap. And going to the gym. That, too. The day after she left, I left for Las Vegas on business, and had a series of really long days. Then home, and trying to catch up from being gone/on vacation. You know how it is.

My Brain is Still an Asshole

I'm still struggling with my depression. Moe's death has been on my mind quite a lot the last week or two (probably because her birthday is coming up), and my sleep has been riddled with disturbing dreams. I'm still working with my depression counselor on strategies to improve my mental health, but I'm wading through a year of "firsts," and I'm not sure what will set me off. Add to the fact that I had to change doctors on March 1st due to a change in my employer provided health insurance and the whole thing is just one big UGH.

Note to self: Regardless of your work schedule, the most reliable method of keeping your brain under control is daily, vigorous exercise. Not walking - vigorous, with your heart rate over 140 for at least 60 minutes. Failure to make time for this critical health care activity results in your brain falling down the rabbit hole. Once in the rabbit hole, it becomes more difficult to motivate yourself to participate in said exercise. Learn it, live it, love it.

Unseemly

When I was in Las Vegas this time, I was staying at one of the luxury casinos because, reasons. I was in one of the "standard" rooms (i.e., the cheap seats), and this was my bathroom:

This bathroom is bigger than the quarters shared by up to twelve female Chief Petty Officers on my last ship.

The entire thing made me feel extremely odd, since I was there on business, and didn't feel comfortable living in the lap of luxury on the company's nickel, not to mention that I was there by myself instead of with my family. I guess I'm not cut out to be a ka-billionaire with more money than sense, as the whole thing just seemed very unseemly.

Losing Their Shit

I'm having an absolutely marvelous time watching the homophobes of the religious right simply lose their shit over Governor Brewer's decision to veto that excretable bill allowing discrimination against people who offend their religious sensibilities (read: Teh Gayz, and also anyone who's not like them). Their ranting includes:

Penis cakes. I'm not even sure what this means. As my friend Megan notes, "I, perhaps foolingshly, assumed that a cake at a gay wedding would not automatically be shaped like the participants' genitals."

Christians being second class citizens. You know, like all the other groups of people who are denied services based solely on an aspect of their protected class. Oh, wait...

Being forced to provide services on an equal basis is akin to slavery. You know, I don't think that word mans what you think it means.

And my personal favorite, how Christians are now persecuted for their beliefs, because God told them to treat an entire segment of the population like dog shit. Again:

As a purely pragmatic matter, I think Governor Brewer's veto was wise. This issue was decided many years ago (can you say "lunch counters?" I knew you could), and this piece of shit bill is quite obviously unconstitutional. Defending it in Federal Court would have cost Arizona tons of cash, and really we all know they'd much rather spend it on keeping those dirty brown people out of their state.

About Me

I am a Hot Chick living in Castle Rock, CO with my fabulous family. We have a rescue dog named "Jackson," and she's a Basenji/Shepherd mix. She's something of a head case, but we love her. I'm a U.S. Navy vet, and I currently work as an Enterprise Solutions Architect, specializing in VoIP and multimedia contact center design. I'm a Trustee for my local library, because LIBRARIES. I care about science, the U.S. Constitution and the military. I'm a tax and spend liberal in a largely red county, but I try not to be stabby about it. I like to color, I aspire to run faster than I do, and I donate knitted cold weather gear to various charities. Stupidity, cupidity and wanton assholery piss me off, and I'm more than a little soft when it comes to dogs and those who serve others. I blog about whatever I feel like. I use foul language, so if that sort of thing offends you, feel free to fuck off now - if I'm unwilling to clean up my language for my fabulous Great Auntie Margie, I'm unlikely to do so for you. Newcomers are welcome here, especially those who disagree with me, but trolling and spamming will be met with the Shovel of Doom™.